30 November 2008

nablopomo, I did the best I could. I tried, really I did. true, I lost a little steam there at the end, but hey. there were milestone birthdays and thanksgiving extravaganzas and sick children in the mix. I did the best I could. and I'm back in the swing of writing and posting photographs (almost) daily and I think that should count for something. um, I'm pretty sure that's the point.

21 November 2008

three years ago, I was in new york with my brother. and while I was there, I bought this little photobooth frame at the 39th street fleamarket. let me tell you, I had to dig through hundreds (and hundreds) of old snapshots to find her. but she was totally worth it. these are the ones that you find at the bottom of the box-- they hide in the cracks, slip in and out of envelopes, piles, fingers. surely it would be easier to dump the box upside down and start my search there. problem is, once I see all those old snapshots, I'm as good as gone. I have to look at every single one of them. yes, I do. and yes, how very OCD of me but I'm sorry, it must be done. I only leave with a few but I have to look at every. last. one. someone needs to. story after story after story, so many stories. they are lost people who need to be seen.

this is what I think:

she was an extraordinary speller and favored the scent of wild violets and coffee.

she kept her valuables in a red shoebox beneath the bathroom sink, behind a stack of mismatched towels.

she had a goldfish named ching ching whom she talked to regularly. though only after she was sure everyone had already gone to bed.

this is what I think. but it could change at any moment. because this is how it is with found photographs. their details are wonderfully mercurial and their stories-- as wide open as the sky.

19 November 2008

like paper candy, I tell you. ah, moo cards. something I could have crossed off the list back in june when that sweet little white box full of tiny cards first arrived in the mail. already time to order more.

17 November 2008

everyday, I drive by the car dearlerships on 82nd avenue. everyday, there are balloons. always, every single day. rain or shine. hundreds of them attached to cars, to the tops of chain link fences, to the entrances and exits. to anything and everything, hovering and swaying as the people pass by, totally oblivious to our indifference. they are indefatigable. and okay, a little needy. but that's the thing about balloons. they don't really care how they look.

yesterday, after months and months of driving past said dealerships, I finally decided to stop. I settled on the dealership with the red and yellow balloons. I don't know why but I think it might be my favorite. did you know, there's really no good way to sneak into a car dealership? not in the middle of the day when they're open for business and all six salesmen are standing outside looking for something to do. the plan was to sidle up along the outside and shoot on the sly. no such luck. I was something like ten feet from the entrance and hidden behind a mess of chain link fence (or so I thought) when I saw them coming. omg they're going to kick me off the property! but I'm not even on their property, I thought. technically, I'm standing on the sidewalk and everyone knows the sidewalk belongs to the city. everyone knows the sidewalks are fair game. or something like that. so then I was all set to defend myself and as non-confrontational as I usually am, I was ready for a fight. until I saw smiles. big smiles, white smiles, both of them coming right at me. oh okay, they're going to try to sell me a car. which was exactly what I was hoping to avoid. people, I am no good in this sort of situation. this is because I have been known to give salesmen a false sense of hope.

as it turned out, they just wanted to be in the picture and maybe engage in some harmless flirting. fortunately, these are things I can handle. plus, I had all kinds of questions about the balloons. lucky for me, oscar (whom I'm pretty sure was the owner) was full of answers. oscar, where do all these balloons come from? you are relentless with all the balloons. how do you do it? how do you do this every single day? this must be costing you a fortune. is this costing you a fortune? well, it's our thing, oscar said. we put them out everyday, take them down, pop them all every night and start over in the morning. then he took out his phone and showed me a picture he'd taken earlier that day. he'd strung the balloons up one by one until they disappeared into the sky, little red and yellow dots punctuating an endlessly bright blue sky. that oscar, he was beaming. he said that if I came back in the morning, he'd string them up again, just like that, just for me. better yet, he'd gather them all up in one enormous bunch. because that's something to see, he said. that's a picture you'll want to take. spoken like a true salesman. I'll admit, this charmed me to no end and if I'd had the cash, I might have purchased a used car and driven it off the lot right then and there. but oscar walked away and left me and my polaroid to the business of taking photographs.

oscar, I never got the chance to tell you how much I appreciated you leaving me and my camera alone like that. and hey oscar? I love the balloons. everyday, I love them.

p.s. portland peoples, if you need to buy a car, I have just the place. also, oscar is single and looking.

16 November 2008

15 November 2008

checkit, in the booth with the one, the only, jek a go-go. she of scrumdillydilly fame. she's the master, she is. and the only person I know who is as kookoo in the head over photobooths as I am. plus, she is the creator and organizer of the brilliant colorriffic swap-o-rama. entire swaps centered around one color or color combination. which is pretty much the best idea ever. she had me sending green goodies to portugal and blue pretties to israel. who does that? jek a go-go, that's who.

besides the mad photobooth skills, she is marvelously rad in real life. just as I suspected. am officially adding her to my small but growing list of 'people who must move to portland'. jek, I like you. I like you a lot.

(in case you missed it, jek's photobooth greatness can be seen here and as always, this group exists to make fridays even better than they already are)

12 November 2008

number 26, she is finished. by the way, a fruit loop-covered doughnut is a tricky thing to manuever. awkward, unwieldy, totally unsure of herself. I should have known this. I should have known.

over the span of the summer, I hit voodoo doughnuts a total of four different times. once at the classic downtown location (where the miami vice doughnut stole my heart) and three times at the new location just off sandy boulevard. jeffrey yamaguchi, I thought of you. voodoo doughnuts would not disappoint you.

at some point, I was introduced to the most brilliant doughnut of all time: the grape ape. covered with vanilla frosting, purple sprinkles and something akin to grape-flavored pixie stix sugar, this is not a doughnut to be taken lightly. uh, I love this doughnut. more than I'd care to admit. which is why I must closely monitor consumption. am limiting intake to twice a year only. special precautions must be taken. proactive measures. must file this under 'dangerous things'. also on this list: ridiculously cute babies. augie, for instance. too much time around that kid and I want more babies. but I digress.

the cereal-covered doughnut is all showy and stuff but the grape ape, she is something special. she is a doughnut for the 21st century. sweet and sour, slightly crunchy from all that pixie stix sugar. I'm telling you, if loving this donut is wrong I don't want to be right. and I'll thank you not to judge me right now. I'll thank you very much.

11 November 2008

if I could, I'd invite every last one of you over for tea and baked goods. today is a good day to be inside with hot tea and warm baked goods. because (surprise) it's cold and rainy. but I can't really do that so hop on over to cafe mom for a little peek inside my home. many thanks to the lovely sheri for the spotlight. also, she said really nice things about me. she just might be my new BFF.

there were two rainies and one shiny today, mama. that's what ezra said to me last week. meaning it rained twice and the sun came out once. it's true, the rain is here. we are currently experiencing our first long stretch of rain here in the great city of portland. and I'm okay. I think. actually, I cried like a baby the first few days and then ward said I was absolutely not allowed to break down this soon into it. the rains have only just begun. so I made a decision: I am meeting it halfway. I'm making a concerted effort. I'm taking the advice so many portlanders have given me in the past and I am getting out in it. the other day, I rode my bike in the rain. which was a mess. my feet kept slipping off the pedals and it was freezing and I couldn't see half the time (what with all that rain in my eyes) but I'll tell you, it felt pretty good. I rode for as long as I could take it, something like a very pathetic seven minutes (if that) but next time I'll go for longer. and I'll remember to wear my fingerless gloves plus maybe a raincoat. but first, I will have to buy a raincoat.

I'm not going to pretend like I don't miss the shiny. the sun comes out every once in a while and I stop everything (and I mean everything) to acknowledge it. I call out the arrival of the sun like a lunatic, like we've not seen it in a hundred years. SUN! SUN! and everyone in the house freezes, unsure of what their next move should be. what should we do? go outside? lay down in it? sing a song about it? and before we can decide, it's gone. just like that.

08 November 2008

also, there's a photobooth at the ace hotel. did you know? yes, I thought you did. I had my one dollar bills ready. I am not one to mess around when it comes to these sorts of things. I do not leave change-making to the concierge. 24 hour access to the photobooth and that's no joke, people. no joke.

so the plan was to sneak down to the lobby with ward around three in the morning (in our pajamas) and get in the booth. guess what? I like to sleep. apparently, my love for sleep trumps a midnight run to the booth. this concerns me. I woke up (strangely well-rested) around six and headed straight for the lobby, puffy eyes and all. dang it if there weren't already a slew of moody hipsters milling around, mugs of stumptown coffee in hand. all of them hogging the new york times. too bad I don't drink coffee. I could have used some coffee. but I got my strip and an entire morning of sleep lay before me like the land of milk and honey.

06 November 2008

04 November 2008

I never talk about politics here. ever. but writing about anything else today would be like ignoring the enormous pink elephant (or donkey) in the room. never has an election felt so electric. never have I felt so excited to vote, never have I felt so nervous about the impending results. in case you're wondering: obama obama obama. but let me tell you, I hate how politics divides our country, our friends, our families. I hate how politics makes people say and do stupid, hurtful things. and if you are someone close to me who is reading this and you don't agree then please, let's talk. because I will drop some science. but lovingly, so lovingly. I will be open to any science you might have to drop too. I have done my research. and I have done the hoping. I will continue to do the hoping and the praying, no matter where we find ourselves tomorrow morning. I am a big fan of hope.

also, the world is watching.

this concludes the political portion of my blog. forever and ever, amen.

03 November 2008

I found myself navigating tree-lined streets. for a second, everything was golden. entire trees screamed out light. leaves like bright yellow slips of paper twisted and flipped and spiraled wildly like so much confetti. I willed one to float in through an open window. I wanted to touch it, hold it up to the sunlight and examine the veins. music filled the car, sufjan's voice like butterscotch candy in my mouth. in that moment, it was everything-- the brilliant colors, the falling leaves, the ornate tattoo on the arm of the man in the truck just in front of me, the girl on the street with the pink balloon. the top of the fremont bridge off in the distance, like an enormous ferris wheel, like the promise of the last carnival. all of these things and all at once. beautifully orchestrated, ridiculously fleeting. and why I believe. God is good. all the time.

01 November 2008

and it's the beginning of nablopomo. I intend to post something here everyday this month. which is probably totally unrealistic but whatever. getting back into the swing of writing and posting photographs daily: yes. I am in. like flynn.